


Fireside

by DylanOhbrien



Series: Virtues in the Verse [2]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Childe/Sire Bond(s), Coping, M/M, Missing Scene, Temporary Character Death, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DylanOhbrien/pseuds/DylanOhbrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look, I didn’t come here to talk about my newfound vampirism. I know we’re kind of in an awkward position since we literally kissed a few days ago and now I’m, you know, undead or whatever.”</p><p>Downworlder. That was a term Simon never thought would apply to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireside

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel time! I managed to finish this way quicker than I originally anticipated.
> 
> In this fic, Raphael will be speaking a bit more Spanish than in the book, and but the translations will be at the end of the paragraph in brackets, so don't worry!

Something drives him back to the hotel Dumont (Or DuMort, as he remembered Clary calling it) at the end of the day. Exhaustion, a part of his brain supplies, from not having slept since the morning before. Fear, the other whispers, about becoming something not human. Curiosity, the final part of him thinks, about why he’s going through these changes.

He finds himself thinking about it after all thoughts of Jace finally leave his mind. The shadowhunter boy had all but taken over every single one of his senses. Simon can still taste Jace on his lips, feel the ghost of his touch against his skin, and the softly whispered words when the sun came up.

His mind is clouded with a mixture of Jace and exhaustion and confusion, but curiosity eventually wins over them all.

Then he thinks about what the Queen of the Seelie Court had said to him. The way she called him a mundane, as if that was a term that no longer applied to him. Then Simon thinks back to the way she’d asked him who he thought she could use him as leverage for. No one in the room had deigned her with a response to that particular question, and he had only spared a fleeting thought to it at that moment, but now it’s a question that is lodged in his mind.

Who would possibly want Simon back more than Clary? Or Jace, apparently. The glaringly obvious answer would be his mother, but Simon doubts that someone like the Queen would bring his own mother into the conversation. What could she possibly have that a faerie would want? Nothing. So no, it could not have been his mother.

But who? _Who_?

The next question to pop up in Simon’s head is the comment about Simon being special for a mundane, that something about him was different from the rest.

“You don’t know it yet," the Queen had said. "but I can sense it in you. There is change coming, and I must admit I’m rather curious.”

Curious about what? How was Simon different? The questioned danced around in his head, with the answers evading him like wisps of smoke he can reach out to touch, but never truly hold.

That’s what gets him thinking back to his life, and how he ended up here. The only truly unique thing to have ever happened to him that most likely does not happen to other mundanes is, well, turning into a rat and getting kidnapped by vampires. Vampires…

Vampires!

It gets Simon thinking about the strange coincidences he’d previously ignored. His recent discomfort in the sun, his enhanced sense of hearing and strength, the way he’d felt as though he had no other option but to put his bloodied finger into his mouth and lap at the dark liquid collecting there. He knows what’s going on, deep in his soul. He feels the change happening, and he feels the desperation well up inside him until he’s ready to just burst.

The sun begins to set, and Simon takes off in the direction of the hotel. He wants answers. No. He _needs_ them.

But the vampires, they descend like rabid animals as soon as he steps foot into the hotel. Simon doesn’t even have a chance to look for Raphael before he’s hit over the head and he can feel the warmth of his blood creep down his temple and down to his neck.

And he gets carried deeper inside the hotel.

Simon never thought he would ever say or think this, but death is peaceful. The fear and the pain, it all just fades when one of the vampires bites into his neck, and he slinks into the sensation of the pleasant burn. In fact, Simon barely notices the cuts at his wrists and forearms and other vampires latching onto him as if he were a fountain they could simply take a sip from. The buzz under his flushed skin is nice, and his eyes flutter shut, too heavy to even be opened. He can hear the beating of his heart against his chest. It’s a rhythmic beat he can hear in his ears, drowning out any of the other sounds. Simon turns his head to the side, leaving his neck even more exposed.

His heart beats in his chest, softer this time.

 

* * *

 

Jace prides himself on his ability to endure, to keep standing on his own two feet. He endures “losing” his father, he endures discovering Valentine is in fact that father, and he endures the demons that he faces frequently. And when Raphael brings him Simon, bloody and dying, he is still standing on those two feet of his.

Clary does not fare as well as he does however, and instead bursts into tears and practically falls to the ground. It's Jace’s hands that steady her, and she sags against him, crying into his chest. His hand comes up to rest at the back of her head, shielding her from the view.

But he can’t look away.

Remarkably, it is Isabelle who reacts first, reaching for the first thing she can get her hands on as a makeshift weapon and pointing it directly at Raphael’s heart. “What have you done to him?”

“Not I, per say,” Raphael says, eyeing the candelabra in Isabelle’s hands with a thinly veiled amusement. Then he places Simon onto the floor with a strange gentleness that Jace hadn’t expected to see. Isabelle follows his movements, the candelabra in front of her. “But the others. _Por favor no pongas esa cosa en mi cara, el niño no está muerto_.” [Please do not put that thing in my face, the boy is not dead.]

“What did you just-” Clary starts, pushing away from Jace.

“I said he is not dead,” Raphael repeats in English.

It is Clary who immediately drops to the ground and all but crawls to the boy, placing Simon’s head on her lap, moving his wet hair out of the way and placing her hands on each side of his face. Jace knows he has no right to be in her spot, so he stands rigid in place while Clary strokes Simon’s face, murmuring at him to wake up.

His fists clench.

“The boy cannot hear you, he is dying,” Raphael responds, and Jace does not care whether he made a promise not to harm the vampire, because he is going to punch his teeth out of his mouth if he speaks so candidly about Simon one more time.

“I thought you said he wasn’t dead,” Clary mumbles, but it’s as though she is hearing Raphael, yet not truly understanding him. “We need to get him to a hospital. Call Magnus, perhaps.”

“You do not have the time,” Raphael says. “It is too late, his heart is only minutes from stopping. Already he is beyond the point of hearing or seeing anything.”

“Then why even bother telling us he is still alive anyway?” Isabelle asks, and her voice cracks. She too cares for Simon. They all do. “I don’t understand.”

(Jace briefly thinks of Alec, and wonders how he is going to react when he finds out. Jace knows that Alec had a soft spot for Simon, after all. It had been plainly obvious.)

Jace’s jaw clenches. “You better begin explaining, bloodsucker. I do not care what promise I made to you, I will cut your heart out of your chest, which is what I should have done back when we first met. Then perhaps we would not be in this situation.”

Then perhaps Simon would not be in the brink of death, and Jace would not feel like the floor had just vanished from under his feet.

“You care for him,” Raphael says, and it seems to be more of a simple observation than anything. “In any case, it is not my fault. When he broke in, it made him fair game to us, and the others quickly descended upon him. I kept him alive, remembering when you two broke into the hotel looking for him. This is why I brought him here. I do not wish to enter into a war with you Nephilim for accidentally killing someone that falls under your protection.”

“He _broke_ in?” Jace asks, disbelief in his tone. “There is no way he would do something like that.”

“But you see, he did.” Raphael’s fangs glint. “I had a feeling he might return, because I knew what it was he was experiencing. He feared he was becoming one of us. A Child of the Night. He wanted to know if there was a way to reverse it. As you know, we pass our powers through blood. When he was a rat, I am not sure if you recall, but he bit me and ingested my blood.”

Jace is silent, because Simon _did_ bite Raphael.

“He thought he was turning into a vampire?” Clary sniffles.

Raphael nods. “Pity he could not be more patient. My blood would have eventually left his system and the effects would have faded, but now-”

"Now what?" Isabelle cuts him off, a hard edge to her voice. "Now he'll die?"

“In a sense,” Raphael nods. “And then rise again. As a vampire.”

No. No, Jace refuses to believe that Simon, sarcastic and beautiful and normal Simon could be anything more than a mundane. Clary seems to have a similar thought process, because the sound the passes her lips is a sound of distraught disbelief.

“You’re lying.” Jace’s voice is sharp as a knife, and it takes him by surprise.

Raphael responds with a squint of his eyes. “If you lack the common sense to believe that i have no reason to lie to you, that is your problem to deal with. He will die and rise as one of the Night Children, whether you believe me or not. That is also why I came. Simon is one of mine now."

“No, he isn’t,” Jace snaps, and the words ‘ _he’s mine_ ’ get stuck in his throat. Yet while the words go unspoken, Raphael manages to pick up on them despite it. Clary and Isabelle also look at him with a knowing look in their eyes.

"There's nothing that can be done? No way to reverse it?" Isabelle asks, and her voice is undoubtedly the calmest out of all of them - minus Raphael’s tone that held a distinct lack of emotion, anyway.

Raphael purses his lips, drawing them out into a thin line. “You could cut off his head and then burn his heart in a fire, but I doubt that would be a preferable alternative.”

“No!” Clary’s voice finally rings out, and she desperately clutches tightly onto Simon. “No! Don’t you dare hurt Simon. Don’t any of you dare hurt Simon.”

Jace finally drops to his knees. “I’d never hurt Simon. You know that, Clary. But think about what Simon would want. You know as well as I that he never wanted to be a part of this world. If we do this to him, there is no going back. Ever.”

“You’d rather him die then become a monster, is that it?” Clary’s voice cracks. “Don’t touch him.”

“I don’t want him to die!” Jace explodes, and Isabelle’s sharp intake of breath and Clary's flinch tell him he may have crossed a line by lashing out. He takes a deep breath, and when he finds his voice it is once again calmer, yet far more softer and broken. “Of course I don’t want him to die, Clary. I-”

Simon suddenly lurches forward, movement jerky and weak, and his eyes pop open in shock. Jace grips his hand, and the words are pouring out his mouth. “Simon. Simon, wake up. _Wake up_. I-”

 _I love you_. He can’t get the words out.

Clary has no such problem.

Then Simon lets out a ragged breath that sounds painful for Jace to even hear, and slumps into Clary’s lap. Jace can feel the soft squeeze Simon gives his hand, and then it goes limp and Simon doesn’t move again. It’s like time stops, and Jace stares down at him, barely noticing the scream that Clary lets out.

Then suddenly he’s crawling out of his skin and he can’t be here anymore. _He can’t be here_. Jace moves like lightening, standing up and backing up until his back hits the cool wall of the Institute, and he can’t breathe. He sees Isabelle watch him before bending down and trying to pry Clary away from Simon’s body. The small girl won’t let go. Isabelle eventually gives up. Clary isn’t listening. She isn’t moving. She just stares down at Simon’s face, and Jace is struck with the thought that it almost looks like he’s sleeping.

But he’s not.

“Now what are we supposed to do?” Isabelle snaps, and the candelabra rises in her hands again. “Start talking before I lose my patience.”

“We bury him,” Raphael says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“That’s not funny,” Jace says, finding his voice.

“Believe me Shadowhunter, it is no joke,” Raphael says, unfazed by the fiery looks he’s receiving from two very well trained shadowhunters. It is how we are made. We are drained, blooded, and buried. When he digs his own way out of the grave, that is when a vampire is born. Some can't dig themselves out. If no one is there to help them get out, they stay like that, trapped like rats under the earth.”

“I won’t put him in the ground,” Clary says, shaking her head roughly.

“That is your decision. I feel though I should warn you, the longer you wait to bury the boy, the less likely he will be to dig his way out of the grave. The clock is ticking, shadowhunter. You ought to make your decision now.”

“Why are you helping us?” Jace asks.

Raphael glances down at Simon’s body, and for a moment Jace catches a flicker of something cross his features. Sadness. It’s gone just as quick as it appears though. “He is my responsibility now.”

“We can bury him,” Clary says suddenly. “But it has to be in a Jewish cemetery.”

“I must warn you, it won’t be pleasant,” Raphael says.

“Nothing ever is,” Jace responds. He glances at Clary and jerks his head down in a single nod. Jace understands it is her choice, and he isn’t sure he agrees with it completely, but Jace knows that he isn’t ready to let Simon go quite yet. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t remember digging himself out of the dirt. Clary won’t look at him, and he wants to get mad that she turned him into this, but he knows it wasn’t really her fault. No one wants to lose their best friend. She did what she could, what Raphael told her she could do.

Raphael is something else altogether. Simon can’t help but feel drawn to him, and the elder vampire explains that it’s because it was Raphael’s blood that had been in his system when he had died. It was Raphael who had sired Simon. Their bond isn’t all consuming, and Simon is still his own person. Yet he feels like he should naturally fall in line behind Raphael.

(This is not something he tells Jace.)

When he’d woken up, he was in the bed in a room at what he quickly identified as his own. There was a dull pain in his head, directly behind his eyes, pounding away like a hammer. The blinds were pulled shut, and he couldn’t for the life of him figured out the time, nor what the hell had happened.

The figure that moved in the corner of the room caused him to jump up, pushing the duvet off of his body and finally notice his state of attire. Despite the darkness of the room, he could make out the rumpled mess that used to be his clothes. They were covered in dirt and blood, torn in multiple places.

“You know, if you are more interested in your clothes rather than the person in the corner, I doubt you will manage to survive very long,” A familiar voice quips, and Simon’s head snaps up.

Raphael. The vampire slinks out from the corner, and Simon feels as though he should be afraid, should slide back to the edge of the bed and worry about what he might do. Instead it’s a peaceful comfort he feels, as though he knows Raphael won’t do anything.

“I see already you feel the pull,” Raphael states, the corner of his lips curling up in an amused smirk. “That’s completely normal, do not worry.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Simon asks.

Raphael ignores the question.

“Your little shadowhunter friends wanted to be here, but I felt that it would be much easier if it was just me, after all, you trust me, do you not?” Raphael asks, and Simon doesn’t deign him with a response. Because he’s _right_. “Last night your friends made the decision to turn you into a Child of the Night. A vampire.”

What?

“ _What_?” His voice sounds shrill even to his own ears.

“Welcome to the Shadow World, Simon Lewis.”

“C-Clary would never do this,” Simon says weakly. “ _Jace_ would never allow this.”

“The Wayland boy left the decision with the girl, _Clary_ ,” Raphael says, leaning against the edge of the bed, arms crossed. “For the sake of making this process go by quicker, I feel like I should explain. You died.”

“Great explanation,” Simon retorts, feeling empty.

“I was not done,” Raphael says, sounding more annoyed than anything. “As I was saying, you brilliantly went to our territory, and the moment you waltzed into the hotel the others wasted no time draining you of your blood. I managed to stop them before you were completely dead only because I remembered how much those two shadowhunter children were desperate to save you.”

“So I became what, something to hold over their heads?” _Leverage_ , Simon thinks.

“I will admit that having you in my court, so to speak, would certainly be beneficial to me,” Raphael admits with a shrug. “Not only with these shadowhunters, but having another vampire under my belt is helpful in times of war.”

“I’m not cannon fodder for you to use whenever you please,” Simon snipes. “I’m a _person_.”

“You are a vampire,” Raphael corrects.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Raphael raises a brow. “It will.”

Simon ignores that.

“Why are we at my house?” He opts to ask instead. “Doesn’t seem like the best choice when my mom could just come through the door at any second. Why aren’t we at the Institute? I’m pretty sure Clary and Jace would want me there.”

“They would.” Raphael’s smile is bitter. “But it is a holy place. I cannot step foot in it, and now, neither can you.”

“Oh.”

Vampires can still cry, apparently. Simon wipes the moisture away from his eyes with his filthy sleeve.

“You need time to cope,” Raphael points out.

“Thanks for taking the social cue,” Simon sniffles.

“You have until nightfall,” Raphael states, and the word _nevermind_ is on the tip of Simon’s mouth before the elder vampire continues. “I would prefer teaching you and having you feed at the hotel. It will be easier to restrain you should you lose control.”

“No offense, but hey, I really do not want to see the vampires that killed me just last night,” Simon growls. “I feel like it wouldn’t end well for someone, and that someone is most likely me. I don’t feel like dying twice in one day.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “Do not blame them. They sensed you were a fledgling, it was instinct to change you. I have a feeling most of them will welcome you with open arms now that you are one of us.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Simon says sarcastically. “Can you get out of here now? I wanna wallow in self pity for a few hours. I’ll show up to your little vampire club, don’t worry. Not like I have much of a choice.”

“You really lack common sense,” Raphael says, looking exasperated with the boy. “It is daylight. You and I are both confined to this home until sundown. I will not get in the way of your adolescent brooding, however. Feel free to sob into your pillow.”

“Thanks,” Simon deadpans. “Whatever, I’m going to change and then sleep, because I’m tired as hell. Is that like a vampire thing? Am I just going to constantly be sleepy?”

 _And hungry_ , Simon thinks. His stomach feels empty, and Simon knows why.

“You are nocturnal now,” Raphael explains. “You will naturally be inclined to sleep during the daylight.”

“Of course,” Simon says, because that should obviously be the answer so why did he bother even asking? Simon climbs out of bed slowly, his entire body feeling sore, and pulls the disgusting shirt off his back and tosses it in the corner. While he rummages through his drawers for a new t-shirt, he asks, “So riddle me this. Earlier you mentioned I was already feeling the pull and that it was perfectly natural, or whatever. What the hell were you talking about, exactly? What pull?”

“I sired you,” Raphael says, shifting in place. “It was my blood inside of you when you died. You’ll feel a connection towards me. You will naturally trust me, naturally want to fall in line with me. It’s completely normal, and it will eventually mostly fade. Never completely, but in a few years time you will be able to ignore it.”

“Just a few years, huh? That’s it,” Simon parrots sarcastically, narrowing his eyes.

“They will go by in the blink of an eye for you. You would do well to remember you are now immortal,” Raphael responds. “I myself am around seventy years old. I’ve known vampires to be over two hundred years old. Time is irrelevant to you now.”

“Right,” Simon says, and he doesn’t try to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Sleep does not come easy, despite the sun shining bright right outside.

 

* * *

 

Simon wakes to Raphael shaking him roughly. He bats the other vampire’s hands away from him and scowls, sitting up. The pain in his head is still there, mostly faded into a dull ache. But the hunger is definitely still there, even stronger than when he first woke up.

“A part of me hoped this was all just a bad dream,” Simon says, rubbing his face with his hand and sitting up. “That I would just wake up and you wouldn’t be hanging over my bed and breathing down my neck like a creep.”

“No such luck, _niño_ ,” Raphael responds. “Also, I do not breathe. You do not need to either, but your body will continue out of habit. Eventually you’ll stop.”

“That actually sounds kinda cool,” Simon admits with a yawn.

“Hurry up and get ready, we need to head back as soon as possible. I’ve been gone for quite a while, and I worry those idiots have killed each other without my supervision.” Raphael impatiently taps his foot against the carpet of Simon’s bedroom.

“That doesn’t sound like it’ll bode well for me,” Simon admits, shoving his foot into his shoe. “My new vamp buddies are all psycho murderers who may occasionally kill each other. And _hey_ , they also technically killed me. Super.”

“ _Mira niño, no tengo tiempo para esto_ ,” Raphael says rapidly and then stops himself, and Simon gives himself an imaginary pat on the back for irritating him so much he slipped back into his native language. “Just hurry it up.” [Look kid, I don’t have time for this.]

“Let’s go.”

They walk across town to the abandoned hotel, and Simon finds himself getting more uncomfortable as they get closer. If Raphael notices it, he doesn’t bother to say anything.

To get his mind off of the crippling fear and anxiety, Simon instead thinks about Clary and Jace and Alec and Isabelle. He wonders what must be going through there head, to have seen Simon die and then become a vampire.

Clary. Clary must be completely distraught. Must blame herself for dragging Simon down with her into the Shadow World and turning him into a vampire. She must blame herself for calling him back when he’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t feel as though he belonged in the Shadow World. Now it didn’t matter whether or not he felt as though he belonged, because he was a vampire and there was no way to reverse that. He was a downworlder.

Jace. Jace might feel even more guilty for not being able to save Simon. He might never even look at Simon the same ever again now that he was a downworlder. No. Not might. Simon was almost certain that Jace does not want to try dating a _vampire_. So all the talk about what he wants and what Simon wants and how their relation might develop had been for nothing.

Alec. Oh, Alec. The poor boy. Simon wonders how he must be taking it having mostly lost a newly found friend. It’s plainly obvious to Simon that aside from Jace (who he had an unfortunate crush on for years) and Isabelle, Alec had no friends. He especially had no friends who _understood_. Understood what it was like to be afraid that those around you wouldn’t accept you for who you were. It had been a nice friendship between them, and it allowed Alec to be frank about his feelings.

He thinks about Isabelle, who he’d began growing a fond attachment to. She was a sweet girl when she wasn’t blatantly flirting with him. He thinks of his mother, who has no idea that her son has died, being replaced by this _monster_. He thinks of Eric and the band, wondering how they’ll react when he drops out of the band, because how can he go to practice when it’s in the middle of the day?

When they finally skirt outside the hotel, Simon does not freeze up. Because Raphael grips his arm and that stupid sire connection takes hold and Simon easily lets himself be led into the darkness of the hotel. The vampires mostly pay him no mind, the occasional vampire giving him a smirk that Simon makes a point to ignore. Without a clue as to who were the vampires that drained him, Simon can’t exactly blindly hate or try to kill all of them.

He leads them through the basement of the hotel, ignoring the others. The floor is dirty and dingy, and no lights are turned on. The old paint chips off the walls, pieces of it hanging off. Old pipes run along the upper part of the wall, and Simon can see a few of them ripped off the ceiling and wall, resting on the ground. He spots a few with dried specks of blood covering one end.

“Lovely place you got here,” Simon says.

“I had a feeling you would not remember your first or second time here,” Raphael responds, but ignores the sarcastic comment Simon makes.

Eventually Simon finally gets led upstairs to the nicer part of the hotel. It looks a little worse for wear, but far from the disaster of the basement. Cobwebs gather at the top of the tall ceiling, a crystal chandelier has long since fallen and shattered glass all over the ground, and Simon can see the husk that it once was, rusting in the middle of the room.

Raphael leads him into a seemingly random room where couches have been stock piled inside, with a handful of vampires scattered around the room, mulling about. They glance up at them when they walk through the door, most of them completely ignoring Simon and staring at Raphael.

“This the new vamp?” One of the vampires asks, a gorgeous girl with dark hair and even darker eyes, pointing at Simon with a sharp nail. “He’s cute.”

“Thanks,” Simon quips. “But I’m taken.”

He _thinks_.

“Pity,” the vampire girl purrs.

“Leave us,” Raphael instructs.

The vampires all move to get up, and the girl smirks at him. Simon catches the glint of her fangs. “If your other relationship doesn’t pan out, I’ll be right here, handsome.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They leave after that, and Simon turns to watch Raphael pour something into a cup and _huh_ , good to know that the vampires aren’t completely uncivilized. He'd hald expected Raphael to hand him a dead animal.

“Drink,” Raphael instructs, handing him the cup, and even in the darkness of the room Simon can make out the red liquid sloshing around inside. In fact, he can _smell_ it. He takes the cup, holding it away from his nose as far as he’s able.

“Who’s blood is this?” Simon asks, but his mouth still waters. It’s disgusting.

Raphael shrugs. “Rabbit, cat, perhaps a dog. I don’t know. Blood is blood. Do not worry though, it isn’t human blood. Drink it.”

“I was a vegetarian,” Simon complains.

“ _Que triste_ ,” Raphael says with a roll of his eyes. Simon is really starting to sense a pattern in Raphael’s reactions to whatever he says: eye rolls and scowls followed by more eye rolls. “Now drink it before you starve. It would be a shame if your friends went through all the trouble to bring you back only to lose you again because of your stubbornness.” [How sad.]

Simon drinks the blood.

 

* * *

 

The moment Raphael releases him into the unsuspecting world with the promise of returning the next night, Simon makes his way to Brooklyn. To Magnus’s apartment where Jace should be if he’d gone back. Not that Alec would have minded being Magnus’s prisoner for a while - and this Simon knows to be a fact, having been the recipient of a few of Alec’s worried speeches about Magnus this and Magnus that and blah, blah, blah.

(“I mean this in the least offensive way possible, Lightwood,” Simon says, throwing his head back and stifling a yawn. Alec can go on for hours if someone lets him, really. “You need to shut up.”

Alec flushes, and Simon knows it’s definitely in anger. He snickers. “Before you decide to kill me with whatever shadowhunter weapon you have laying around, I feel like I should defend myself here. It’s just, you’re blowing this out of proportion. Magnus flirted with you, right?”

“I _think_ he did,” Alec clarifies.

“You were blushing like a bride, he was definitely flirting,” Simon says with a roll of his eyes. “Which means he’s into you! So, why aren’t you - and excuse my crass wording here - tapping that ass?”

“The Clave-” Alec starts, and it’s all things Simon has heard before.

“The Clave are idiots if they’re going to shun you for liking a guy,” Simon snaps, strangely serious. “You like who you like and no amount of social shaming is going to magically change that. Not like there’s anything wrong with liking a guy or downworlder anyway.”

“You have it easy,” Alec grumbles. “Clary and your family, they’re fine with it. Mine are less so.”

“Wrong. Isabelle accepts you. And anyway, some people in mundane society are sort of assholes,” Simon explains with a shrug. “Had to deal with a good two years of my life where I felt guilty whenever I liked a guy. I was always worried that my friends would look at me different or that my mom would be ashamed. Coming out to them was the hardest thing I ever did, and even though I did lose a friend or two, when the dust settled, I was so glad that I did.”

Alec bites his lip. “Did you get over it? The guilt and the fear, I mean.”

“You overheard me talking about Jace’s ass to Clary,” Simon snorts. “That’s how you found out I was even into guys. Of course I’m over all the guilt and fear. There’s nothing wrong with you or _me_. Well, actually, there might be something wrong with you if you like someone as crazy as Magnus.”

Alec glares. Simon laughs.)

He makes his way up the steps and stands in front of the door, shifting on his feet as he tries to garner the courage to knock. There’s no way he can back out now. He’s already here, already in front of the door. The worse that can happen is Mangus answers the door with that knowing look of his plastered on his face.

If Alec wasn’t so over the moon for the warlock, Simon would probably fight him in a heartbeat. And hey, he's a vampire now. He might be able to take him on.

Still though, he squared his shoulders and lifted his fist, knocking on the door lightly. For a minute he worries his knock wasn’t loud enough, but then the door bursts open and suddenly there Jace stands, blinking in surprise, looking the disheveled mess that tells Simon he just woke up.

“Simon,” Jace says, blue eyes wide. It’s strange, but Simon is aware of everything about Jace right now, the way his cheeks redden in the slightest, the way his hand twitched forward momentarily before coming back to rest stationary at his side.

“Jace,” Simon chooses to respond in the same manner, and he doesn’t step into the apartment. Instead he glances over Jace’s shoulder and peaks inside the neat apartment, dark eyes glancing around every surface. “Is Magnus home, perchance?”

“No, he went out for a job earlier and hasn’t come back yet,” Jace responds, shaking his head. He looks apprehensive. “Are you looking for him?”

“No, I was looking for you, actually,” Simon says, and he doesn’t miss the small droop of Jace’s shoulder at that. Is that good? Simon hasn’t the slightest clue. “I was wondering if we could talk privately.”

“If you don’t mind Chairman Meow hanging around, then we are technically alone,” Jace says, and Simon wants to push him against the wall and pepper him with kisses. He refrains, instead slowly stepping into the apartment and walking around Jace, careful not to touch him.

He walks over to the couch and sits down, hands resting on his lap. Jace eventually follows him after shutting the door, sitting a little ways apart from him. The silence they st in for a few minutes is deafening.

“So,” Simon starts. “Seeing as I am on a bit of a time limit here, I think I should get to the point here. Raphael told me everything, explained it to me and even taught me a few things that he thought were important for me to know.”

“I would have told you,” Jace finally says. “I _offered_. I wanted to be there, Simon, when you woke up. So did Clary. But the vampire, he said-”

Simon holds up a hand to stop him. “I know what Raphael said, and while I understand where both you and Clary were coming from, I think I agree with him.” Jace looks like he’s been slapped. “This change, it’s not something that you nor Clary would understand. I mean, it’s one thing to find out you’ve been something all your life without knowing, and it’s another altogether to be morphed into something different altogether. This has been a lot to process, and it’s only been two days. Not that I remember the first day.”

“I’m glad you don’t,” Jace admits.

“Yeah, I doubt it was a pretty sight,” Simon says, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about my newfound vampirism. I know we’re kind of in an awkward position since we literally kissed a few days ago and now I’m, you know, undead or whatever.”

“What do you mean?” Jace asks, eyes squinting.

“I just mean that I guess this puts a damper on the whole us thing, don’t you think?” Simon asks. “You’re a shadowhunter, I’m a vampire. A downworlder. Who would want to date a downworlder anyway?”

Downworlder. That was a term Simon never thought would apply to him. A vampire. Not remembering anything from that night does not mean that he isn’t aware that he’s a monster now.

“Simon,” Jace warns, voice tight. “Do not talk yourself down like that.”

“I’m not,” Simon snaps, and he looks down at his hands. They look pale. He repeats himself, softer this time. “I’m not. But you and Isabelle and Alec all used to talk about downworlders like they were beneath you. Raphael talks about your type as if you were generals and we were simple foot soldiers. It’s a hierarchy to you all, and I just dropped to the bottom of that chain.”

“You forget that Isabelle has tangled with the fae multiple times, and I have as well. You forget that Alec is currently dating the High Warlock of Brooklyn, undoubtedly a downworlder,” Jace reminds and when he takes Simon’s hand in his own, it’s a small comfort. “My feelings have not vanished because you are now a vampire.”

“That’s not what you used to say,” Simon mumbles. “You used to say the word downworlder like it was something disgusting.”

“The same way I said mundane,” Jace remarks, and Simon cannot argue that. “Yet I still kissed you in the Seelie Court, and yet I want to kiss you now. Mundane, downworlder, they are terms that no longer matter to me, Simon."

“I’m not going to age anymore,” Simon says.

“Magnus does not age either,” Jace quips. “Alec is still enthralled with him.”

“I’m a servant to the daylight, as Raphael so pleasantly put it. There is a constant unsatisfied hunger that I carry everyday, and I have been told that it cannot be quenched. I no longer stomach normal food. My heart doesn’t beat,” Simon starts, and he would be glad to continue listing the problems that he now must deal with, except that Jace cuts him off with a kiss.

If he’s glad of one thing, it’s that kissing Jace, vampire or not, still feels the same. Better even, with his heightened senses. It’s as though he’s drowning in Jace completely.

Jace pulls away, face still so close that Simon could just lean in a bit and they’d be kissing again. “You talk too much,” Jace murmurs.

“So I’ve been told,” Simon responds lightly, lips curling into a grin. “By you, and then Alec, and Magnus, too. I think Isabelle mentioned it once or twice. Clary has most _definitely_  told me I have a habit of talking way too much.”

Jace smiles. It really is quite a pretty smile.

“Alec was pissed he wasn’t there when Raphael brought you to us,” Jace says next, hand coming up to his face. Simon leans into the touch. “He’s actually anxious to see you.”

“I knew he was secretly in love with me,” Simon says, shaking his fist in the air. “No one suddenly gets handsy with a person like that.”

Jace’s thumb presses against Simon’s lower lip. “Like this?”

“Just like that,” Simon says. “Alec is going to be so heartbroken when I turn him down for his hot best friend.”

“I’m sure he’ll manage. He has Magnus.”

Simon laughs. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to cope with that.”

Jace kisses him again.

Simon isn’t sure what is going to happen next. He’s a vampire now, he can’t go out into the sunlight anymore, his life is never going to be the same ever again. And the only one singular constant in his life is this moment right now: the feel of Jace’s hand splayed out over his cheek, the soft press of his lips against Simon’s skin.

It’s more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, feel free to message me on [tumblr](http://simonjace.tumblr.com/)!


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